


revision

by haywoodukillme



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Fake Chop, Gen, PARKOUR BOYZ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 12:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14671449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haywoodukillme/pseuds/haywoodukillme
Summary: James used to jump rooftops with them before he fell. Aleks remembers everything, especially when he wishes he didn't.





	revision

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to the anon who sent me the parkour prompt,,, I hope u like this even tho it's a million months late

James doesn’t like heights.

It’s funny because he used to be a _sniper,_ of all fucking things, but that was when he was eighteen and he looked death in the face and fucking _laughed,_ so unbothered with the idea of dying. Dead or alive, it didn’t matter back then. How could he be scared when he didn’t fear falling?

(The reality was James almost wished he would fall, just so he would feel something. Thought maybe hitting the ground would knock everything in him back into place. Didn’t care about the consequences.)

During his time with the Hub, James wouldn’t say he was afraid of heights. He would say he was _wary_ of them and he’d say that anything that contradicts that is Aleks’ fault.

Aleks, who showed up to the Hub and smiled in a way that only looked dangerous. He caught James’ eye, though, and he’s stubborn when he wants something, so when Aleks put his hand low on James’ back and took him up to the roof, James didn’t hesitate to follow him. Didn’t say anything when Aleks sat at the edge and turned his head, looking for James to join him. Just walked forward and sat, dangled his feet over and let them hang with nothing to hold him back, and his stomach was tight but he wasn’t… afraid.

Well, no. He was. He just wasn’t afraid of falling.

Aleks tilted his head up, leaned back on his hands, and James watched the way the wind ruffled his hair and he thought about how high up they were and he promised himself he wouldn’t look down. He wouldn’t be scared as long as he didn’t look down. Nothing would go wrong as long as he _didn’t look down._  

The first time James saw Aleks run and fling himself off the edge of a roof top, he was sure the guy was dead. Aleks disappeared over the ledge and James was _sure_ has was going to have to scoop Aleks off the pavement outside, remembers standing in the middle of the roof, slack jawed, watching the air where Aleks just was and wondering what the _fuck_ he was going to do now.

It’s a second later that he sees a head of dark hair poke up just beyond the edge of the base and James stumbled to peer over, caught Aleks on the lower roof next to them, very much alive and very much grinning like he’d just gotten away with something _spectacular._ James knew the look on his face must be priceless, mouth hanging open and eyes wide, but Aleks tilted his head and looked up at him and James knew he would follow him.

He shook his head, part disbelief and part refusal, but Aleks rocked back on his heels and spread his arms out, a ‘come on’ gesture, and James bit his lip but he turned around, half jogged across the roof the way he came and he didn’t give himself a second to think about it before he turned again and started running.

He didn’t look down. He looked at Aleks instead, tucked into himself so he rolled when he hit the roof, didn’t have to face the reality of what he just did. He sprawled out on his back, stared at the sky instead and watched the clouds move until Aleks blocked his view, stood over him, dumb hair falling in his face and still grinning.

James didn’t think there was any air left in his lungs but Aleks asked “Fun, right?” and James said, “Yeah, fun,” anyway, even though his heart was beating through his chest and his knees felt weak and he felt like he couldn’t stand up again any time soon.

It was fun, though. It was _exhilarating._

James always said he would have to really die to feel something, to feel alive, but chasing after Aleks like that? That was the most alive he’d ever felt since the Hub started.

They were young, indestructible, and James remembers breathless laughter and chasing after each other like it was a game. They thought they were _untouchable,_ that they were faster than death.

Once he found out about it, Jordan would always reprimand them. While they were with the Hub he made them feel guilty about every risk they took. Aleks didn’t listen to any of it - he put himself into a life of crime because it was _exciting_ but Jordan looked at them all as collateral, as dollar signs, calculated each heist and each profit and minimized any threat, especially when it meant the job would become _boring._ Safe.

So then they used to run rooftops for fun, when they weren’t on the Hub’s dime so Jordan couldn’t say shit about it. It’s funny, you know. Flying was the greatest thing either of them had ever experienced.

Flying can turn into falling, though.

It’s a distinct line they’ve toed since the beginning - you can’t be scared and you can’t hesitate, or you’re going to fall. You can’t anticipate error, you just need to barrel on - trust your body, trust the architecture. Trust your judgment of distance. Trust you can make it.

If you doubt yourself, you fall.

Leaving the Hub feels exactly like flying. They never doubted themselves, never thought about failing, and for the first few months they fucking _soared._  

Aleks thinks that might have been the happiest any of them have ever been, finally feeling in control of themselves and what they were doing. They scaled buildings and hopped the gaps because they _could,_ because no one was there to tell them no, and it was fun.

It was convenient, too, especially as they recruited more kids - young, inexperienced, bright faced, and all of them _shit_ at driving. Using rooftops as an escape plan was less risky than getting in a car with Trevor, or worst of all _Jakob_ behind the wheel, and Aleks would gladly take his chances hurling himself over building edges instead.

He thinks of all the good times, remembers the soft glow of streetlights, turning his head to the side and catching James, a fuzzy silhouette backlit against the skyline. The wind is bitter and it whips his hair loose from his bun and Aleks takes a second to crouch and press his hands against the cement under him, steadies himself and watches the way James tips his head up to the sky and laughs.

It’s a nice picture, made even better by the bags strapped to their backs, stuffed full of money and jewels and lockboxes, safe in the knowledge that the LSPD has come and gone and hasn’t found them, doesn’t even know it’s them they should be looking for.

Aleks remembers the way James looked when he rocked back on his heels before pushing himself forward, the way he looked long and lean and sure of himself flying through the air from one balcony to another. James will land and look up for him, tip his head to the side and gesture, and Aleks will curl his hands over the ledge, use the momentum to push himself forward and laugh as he goes.

It’s not always a fun time, though.

It’s hard to run and jump and climb when you’re hurt, and right now Aleks’ leg is screaming at him, track pants sticking to his skin, already tacky with blood. He grits his teeth as he scrambles up and over the brick wall slower than he’s used to but he’ll be damned if this is how he goes out, a sitting duck for some stupidly lucky rookie cop. In front of him, he can hear James and Trevor yelling back and forth, can see Brett ducked down on the next building over firing pot shots down at the cops in the alley. It’s a messy picture, but it’s not unfamiliar. They’ve been in worse situations than this.

Aleks grits his teeth and waits for Brett, gets his feet under him and catches his breath and keeps his eyes trained to the rooftop across from him. He surveys the whole scene, catches the way James has sat Trevor down to tie off a sloppy bandage around the wound in his own arm, takes in the way James’ face is smeared with blood, both of them banged up from a fist fight they got caught up in on their way out of the museum.

Brett is the most unscathed, the only one of them all not bleeding. Aleks hones in on him, counts the bullets he fires before he pokes his head out, sweeps the alley, and then nods.

Aleks doesn’t hesitate before he flings himself over the edge of the building.

There’s no momentum, no propulsion, but he doesn’t have time to get a running start and he doesn’t know if his leg will hold up anyway, still bleeding sluggishly from a bullet wound in his thigh. He tries not to think about it, tries to focus on nothing but the far edge that he’s trying to reach, keeps his eyes on Brett leaning over and trying to close the gap. Aleks jumps, and doesn’t think about not making it to the other side.

The most pain he’s probably ever been in is when he smacks against the side of the building, hands scrambling for purchase and the wind knocked out of him. He feels sharp pain in every inch of his body and there’s fear above everything else because he didn’t quite make it, has his hands over the ledge but between the shock of the impact and how much pain he’s in, he knows he can’t pull himself up and he’s on the verge of panic before he feels hands grabbing for his wrists, curling into his jacket, pulling him up and taking the strain off. Brett hauls him up and over and Aleks rolls onto the rooftop, lays out flat on his back and just tries to breathe again.

There’s the sound of gunshots and more yelling and Aleks knows someone is kneeling next to him by the absence of the sun on his skin. He feels like he can’t open his eyes, like he can’t catch his breath, and he’s _definitely_ panicking.

Soft hands come up around his shoulders, and then there’s a voice near his ear, and Aleks knows the second he starts talking that it’s James.

“Hey, hey, deep breaths, don’t tense up. I’ve got you, I’m here, just breathe. C’mon, in and hold it - “ and it’s dumb and stupid and they don’t have time for it, still stuck in a firefight and trapped on a fucking _roof_ , but James leads him through breathing exercises like they’re in the middle of a yoga class on a sunday afternoon instead and Aleks still can’t open his eyes but he listens, and he can feel his shoulders relaxing, the weight coming off his chest, his breathing coming back.  

James stays with him, sits on the rooftop with Aleks while Brett and Trevor move on, draw enough attention away from them that James can get Aleks down the building from the inside, an arm around his waist and Aleks’ own slung over his shoulders, taking most of his weight while they hobble down the stairs.

He hotwires a car while Aleks sits in the alley and watches, and they make it back to the warehouse at about the same time that Brett and Trevor do and Aleks lets go of the last knot of fear buried in his chest when he sees all of them together again, banged up and bleeding but _alive._

(Lindsey lectures him as she digs the bullet out of his thigh, but Aleks would go through that moment a million times if it meant he never had to live through what happens next.)

They lay low for a bit like they usually do, Aleks by necessity while his leg heals, and the guys go through a couple of small hits to keep themselves busy between heists. His gunshot wound wasn’t fatal but his leg is still in bad shape, and he’s too much of a liability to have out in the field when he can’t run, so Aleks stews around the warehouse while the others go out for jobs, goes stir crazy taking apart and cleaning every weapon he owns, even goes so far as to organize their ammo boxes and cleans out the storage loft while he’s out of commision.

Jakob gets tired of him quick, kicks Aleks out from the tech bay because it was infuriating for him to work with Aleks leaning over his shoulder, so Aleks scowls and spends his time hanging out in Brett’s office, pours over maps and shipping logs, tries to put together a heist or two for when he gets back on his feet.

The crew comes and goes, and Aleks sits and watches as they strap into body armor, stuff weapons into holsters and ammo into pockets, listens halfheartedly to their plans and nods to them as they head out. He tries not to focus on it, knows he’ll drive himself crazy monitoring their progress, but he _worries._ It sucks to be left behind. Aleks knows his crew and he knows they’re all completely capable of doing their jobs and doing them well, but he feels restless and useless sitting around doing nothing.

Lindsey must notice because after Brett, James, and Trevor leave for a job, she rolls her chair over to where Aleks is perched on the back of the couch and says, “I could use another set of eyes on the street cameras, if you’re not doing anything.”

Aleks still can’t move too fast, but he’s up on heading over to the free computer before Lindsey can say anything else.

The guys are on a routine robbery downtown, nothing too fancy, but Aleks knows they’re expecting a bit of resistance from the area. They’re hitting what should be an empty warehouse, used by another crew as a storage center for incoming boxes of ammo, drugs, weapon crates, but the chances of the warehouse actually being unguarded are slim.

The risk is worth it, though. If they can grab enough and get away with it, they can turn it around in no time and spin a nice profit. Drugs and guns sell quick in Los Santos, and they know their market.

Through the cameras on street corners and the occasional security system outside the nearby shops, Aleks can track the guys as they move through the city. They're in a car for now, a shitty two door burner that they’re planning to drop and leave near the warehouse as collateral once they’re done. Aleks can’t hear them, but he watches them park and can see Trevor get out of the car laughing, see Brett scowling and James grinning, can only imagine whatever shitty joke the two of them made and are still giggling over as they close their doors and round the car to pull duffels out of the trunk.

It makes something turn over in his stomach, makes his chest tight. Aleks has never been one for superstition, but he just has such a _bad feeling_ about all of this.

He looks up, eyes darting to Lindsey across from him, but there’s no sign of distress as she flicks between cameras so Aleks sucks in a breath and holds it and tries to calm down. He turns back to the screen in front of him, watches James hip check Trevor as they walk around the car, catches Trevor sticking his foot out to try and trip him back but James steps over it and pushes Trevor into Brett instead and Brett tangles a hand in the back of both of their shirts, drags them down the back alley around the corner from the car all while shaking his head at them.

Aleks smiles at the familiarity of it, loses his nervousness for a moment. Leave it to James to always be causing trouble and Brett to keep them in line. He can almost hear the way Trevor is probably complaining, always caught in the middle because he’s easy to rile up and slow to realize when they’re messing with him. He gives it back to them just as good as he gets it, though, and Aleks already knows Trevor is planning something for after the heist, when they’re all back in the warehouse and the coast is clear.

They get into the base without a problem, pick the lock in the back and crawl in without making too much noise. Aleks loses sight of them, but Lindsey told him that would happen. They don’t have eyes into the warehouse itself, and the cameras outside can only catch so much. Lindsey’s got all of them on comms though, will know if something goes wrong, so Aleks watches her instead of the screen and waits.  

It’s a quiet couple of minutes, nothing happening on the cameras and nothing happening in the warehouse, but then Lindsey’s eyebrows furrow and there’s a second where Aleks straightens up at the same time as she dives forward, hands flying over her keyboard. Her voice is fast and low when she says “You’ve got company coming, two minutes until they start pulling up,” and Aleks clicks through feeds, tries to find a better angle of the warehouse, a wide shot of the street so he can see the same thing Lindsey is.

He catches movement out of the corner of one of the cameras, flicks to the next channel and finds the source - a decrepit truck with the windows blacked out, speeding down the block. The back door bangs open when they take the turn too hard, and Aleks can see a couple of people inside, guns across their backs. He curses and relays the information to Lindsey, who in turn hisses it into her mic, urgent, “I don’t care what they have inside, you _get out of there right now.”_

Whoever she’s got on the line must not give her the answer she wants because Aleks can see the way Lindsey grits her teeth together, stares at the screen in front of her with a grimace.  

Aleks flicks through the feeds and follows the van directly to the warehouse he just watched his crew break into, watches the tires screech to a halt and the doors fly open again, and this time the guys he saw are hopping out and Aleks can see even more guns, body armor he didn’t notice before.

He feels his heart in his throat, is up and out of his seat like that will make the situation suddenly _better._ He’s leaning most of his weight on the desk, palms pressed flat to the wood, all of the weight off his bad leg.

There’s a flurry of movement, and at the same time that the other crew moves into the warehouse, Aleks sees the door on the roof fly open and Brett stumble after it. James and Trevor are behind him, and Aleks chokes on the breath he sucks in at seeing them.

It’s a small building, one story, so Aleks knows the crew on the ground heard them break down the door. Brett seems to know that, too, and Aleks watches him crouch and start to shuffle to the far side of the building. He waves and Trevor follows him, crawls the same way Brett did, but James turns back into the warehouse instead. He peers down what Aleks can only assume is a staircase down to the main floor, pulls his SMG off his back and snaps in a magazine, cocks it and flicks the safety off.  

Lindsey curses under her breath, and Aleks would too but he’s stuck staring at James and not believing what he’s seeing. The asshole is standing there while Brett and Trevor leave him behind, cross the roof and jump to the next one, standing there with his gun drawn like he’s on a suicide mission, like he’s making some sort of last fucking stand -  

James looks behind himself, like he’s checking that he’s alone on the roof, and then he brings his gun up and sends some shots inside. Almost as soon as he does he’s turning and running, fast enough that Aleks almost misses him when the frames drop in the CCTV relay. Aleks is half way through saying “Fucking finally, idiot,” when the warehouse goes up like a giant fireball.

There’s a smashing sound across from him and Aleks chokes, feels his knees buckle and his leg _screams_ at him when his arms can’t keep himself up and he falls back into his chair, heavy. His eyes are glued to the screen, watching the way smoke billows out of the blasted warehouse windows and fire licks up the building from the inside. From this camera, he can’t see Brett or Trevor anymore, and he definitely can’t find James.

Aleks is shaky as he reaches forward, hands scrambling for the keyboard so he can flash through different CCTV feeds, trying desperately to find a hint that James is somehow alive.

Lindsey finds him first, spits into her headset, “23rd and Central, on top of the apartment building,” and then Aleks is flicking feeds, frantic, looking for either street name to pop up. He finds a roof cam, and he almost passes by it, but something moves out of the corner of the frame and then he sees James, watches him stumble into frame and fall onto his hands and knees, coughing so hard his whole body is shaking. Aleks is white knuckling the desk, face pressed almost too close to the monitor, but James is breathing and alive, crawling across the roof. He’s pressing a hand to his chest, but the screen resolution is too low for him to tell if it comes away bloody.

It’s an agonizing amount of time that Aleks sits and is forced to just wait, stuck staring at James and not knowing how hurt he is, how far away Brett and Trevor are, how long it’ll be before they can get to James. Aleks feels a bone deep _fear,_ and above everything else, he just feels useless.

Lindsey tells him to keep the feed up while she talks to Asher, has already pulled a few strings to get him a chopper so he can fly in and get the three of them _out._ Right now, with them separated, communications cutting in and out, and no solid knowledge of injuries, they just need to get their crew home. _Safe._

Aleks watches the feed so closely he barely blinks. Watches as the smoke clears, as James rolls out onto his back and lays flat on the roof, as the minutes tick by until Brett and Trevor turn up, edge into the screen and check James over in a flurry of movement, jerky and frantic and desperate. Aleks leans forward, watches, but he doesn’t see any of them take action, watches Brett rock back on his heels and relax instead, and Aleks is still _nervous_ but that seems like a good sign. Like maybe they managed to get through that shit show uninjured.

If anyone could get lucky like that, it’s James.

When Asher finally lands and picks them up, he’s still on comm with Lindsey and he can confirm that everyone’s doing just alright, considering. They’re banged up, bruised, exhausted, but alive. Lindsey presses the backs of her hands against her eyes, hard, and Aleks lets himself slump, hangs his head until it hits the desk and squeezes his eyes shut, relieved.

When Asher lands and they all turn up at the warehouse, Aleks hobbles his way across the bay so he can assure himself they’re okay before smacking the absolute _shit_ out of all of them, James especially. Aleks doesn’t say anything but James opens his mouth to, probably to yell at him, but before he can Aleks almost falls, his knee buckling and his leg almost going out from under him, not able to hold all the weight he’d been leaning on it. James catches him, loops an arm around his waist and lets Aleks lean into him, and instead of yelling he just says, low, “Let’s get you back in a chair.”

It’s a testament to how emotionally drained Aleks really is that he doesn’t even argue.

James tries not to think too much about it.

 

Despite the explosion, they did manage to get a decent haul from their heist, and the next few weeks are spent selling and trading and pulling their real profits from everything they brought back. For the most part, Brett and Lindsey are bent together, dredging up old connections and putting deals in place, keeping books of what they have and what they’re getting in return. They crunch numbers and run scenarios and the rest of the crew leaves them be, just mull around and wait for orders.

While they lay low, Aleks heals. He makes James rest with him, too, because no matter how many times he says he’s fine Aleks doesn’t believe him.

“You were almost caught in an _explosion._ Shut up and stay on the couch with me.”

“Yea, but I _wasn’t_ , I got out,” James argues but he doesn’t move to get up, just shifts on the couch so Aleks can lay on him, put his feet up in his lap. He doesn’t even complain when Aleks pulls up Netflix and starts _Narcos_ again, but a few episodes ahead of where they were the last time they watched it together. He lets himself relax so Aleks will, too, and figures it’s alright to take some time out, that Brett or Lindsey will yell for them when they need them.

They both end up falling asleep like that, sprawled out on the couch, legs tangled together, the TV dark with Netflix pulled up still, asking them “ _Are you still watching?”_

(Lindsey did come over at one point, but she took one look at them and sought out Trevor and Asher instead, sent them out to do a supply run while she pulled a blanket over the two sleeping beauty’s and left them be.)

 

Once the heat dies down and everyone is back on their feet, the crew turns their attentions to some of the new heist plans Lindsey had half doctored up for them in the lull between jobs. Brett calls James and Aleks into his office, spreads a few manilla folders out on his desk and says, “Pick a card, any card,” and Aleks rolls his eyes but James huffs, thinks about it, and finally taps the folder closest to the left edge of the desk. Brett sweeps the other ones directly onto the floor with no regard for the way the papers inside scatter, focuses instead on opening the one James had picked and taking out those papers one by one, laying them out for all of them to see.

There’s a map of the city with a few notes scribbled on it, a couple of grainy stills from CCTV footage, and a few documents marked up with bullet point notes. Lindsey is cryptic as always, her shorthand hard for anyone but herself to understand, and Brett stares at the papers and tries to connect the dots for about ten seconds before he pushes himself away from the desk and just goes to get Lindsey so she can explain the job to them herself.

It pans out as a standard run and gun robbery on the snobby side of the city. There’s a townhouse on the edge of the beach with a fake name on the lease and no one living in it, but a lot of people and a lot of illegal things coming in and out. It’s a sitting duck, a hit and run waiting to happen, and Lindsey is grinning as she slaps down what looks like shipping receipts and data logs, points out the bigger numbers and tells them, “We hit this? We’re set for a while.”

Aleks can’t deny the excitement he feels, sits up a little straighter so he can peer down at the papers. Brett doesn’t even have to ask what they think, already knows they’re all on the same page. He spares a glance to either side and catches James, leaning forward on his elbows, grinning, and Aleks, head tilted up and already counting shares on his fingers. Brett slides his notebook closer, takes the marker Lindsey’s holding out, and starts planning out assignments.

The heist doesn’t go over for another week, and they busy themselves with prep work. Aleks is still stretching his legs, getting the last of his aches out, and James has been tagging along with Brett, shaking down smaller crews for any incoming weapons deals and armor pickups. The tech bay’s been busy, Jakob and Asher constantly bustling back and forth and peering over computer files, camera stills, traffic patterns - anything they think they’ll need to know for the day of. Lindsey watches and orchestrates it all, makes sure none of them does anything too stupid before call time, and Trevor keeps Aleks company doing the small stuff, sorting ammo and scouting escape routes.

“Tall building, surrounded by other buildings. Shouldn’t be too hard for us,” Aleks’ voice trails off as he walks away from the street and towards the corner, hand at his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun as he peers up, tries to judge the gap between the building they’ll be in and the one next to it.

In front of him, Trevor is standing between the two, arms spread. “I can touch both sides, this won’t even be hard.”

“Next one isn’t so close, though,” Aleks turns his head, and Trevor follows his gaze further down the block, where the buildings turn to houses and the alleys turn into yards, and the gaps all grow further and further apart. It’s the danger of hitting a mark on the outside of the city, where the area is more residential than urban. Less rooftops mean less places to hide, means they’re going to have to be more careful. More creative.

Aleks frowns, worried, but Trevor just shrugs. He squints past the sun, looks up and over the buildings, says, “we’ll make it work,” and Aleks can’t help but nod. He bumps Trevor’s shoulder while he’s still looking away and they drop the subject, climb back into Aleks’ car and head to the warehouse.

The worry sits in the pit of Aleks’ stomach and gets worse the closer they get to the day of the heist, but he pushes it to the side, pretends it’s just because of his leg, because of the way the last heist went down, that he’s worried about someone getting hurt again. He lies to himself about the nervous way his hands shake as he straps himself into his armor, says it’s all excitement, enthusiasm, but he knows it isn’t. All he’s thinking about are the gaps between the buildings, the way Trevor looked up at them and shrugged, but Aleks could see the way he hesitated to acknowledge them. Fear curls, sick and unrelenting in his gut, and Aleks hates the feeling. Fear is familiar, but it’s usually fleeting. It has to be.

“Earth to Aleks, we’ve got shit to do,” James waves a hand in his face, and Aleks blinks and jerks back, stumbles when he trips over his own feet and he almost goes tumbling backwards but James catches him by his shirt and laughs as he helps Aleks right himself. James huffs, but there’s a light in his eyes that Aleks is used to seeing, a grin taking over his face, and Aleks doesn’t say anything in his defence, just shoves at James’ shoulder so he’ll uncurl the hand in his shirt and let Aleks walk past him.

“Are Brett and Trevor ready to go?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Brett rounds the corner then, head down, looking at the pistol in his hands as he snaps a new clip in. Trevor’s not far behind him, rubbing at his eyes and looking like he’s on the verge of yawning.

“I’m not carrying you if you fall asleep while we’re out,” James raises an eyebrow with the threat, and it gets a laugh from Brett and Aleks while Trevor just rolls his eyes and waves him off. He flops into the nearest chair so he can pull on his boots and lace them up while Lindsey comes over, phone in hand with her GPS pulled up and zoomed in to street view. She’s pointing out their places of interest, a last minute check that they’re all on the same page about the entry and exit, where exactly they’re going and how.

Lindsey briefs them quick, and then they’re off and running.

The run up is, arguably, Aleks favorite part of any heist. It’s also over the fastest, just a few minutes of adrenaline, a break in, and then they’re scooping as much as they can into duffel bags while someone peeks out of windows, tips through blinds to make sure the cops aren’t on their asses. They run on pure instinct, ready to act at the drop of a hat, but a one track mind, ultimately. They came here for the money, and they’re going to get the money.

They comb through the townhouse until Lindsey tells them they’ve finally pinged the LSPD’s radar and then they’re out, pounding up the rest of the steps to get to the roof. They’re loud, focused more on moving quick than quiet, and the bags bounce on their backs, heavy with their reward. When they get to the roof, Lindsey is hissing in their ears, “ _You’ve got company,”_ and they can hear the wail of a siren in the air. It all means nothing, though. They’re past the hard part, now they just have to _disappear._

It’s not hard to get a running start, and the four of them make it over to the next building with no problems. LSPD has pulled up by now, lights glaring and too bright to ignore. Aleks hears the sounds of tires screeching and car doors slamming and knows gunshots are sure to follow, so he crouches as he scrambles his way across the roof, slides under the piping so he can slip off the higher edge and drop down to the lower part of the roof where the other three are waiting for him. James has his gun in hand and he’s peering over the edge of the building, grimacing. Before Aleks can say anything, Brett is taking three big steps forward and hauls James back from the edge with a hand wound in his shirt and in the next second, there’s gun fire in the alley and bullets embedded into the brick under them, too close to the ledge for comfort. Aleks grits his teeth and pulls his own gun off his back as James swears and stumbles over his own feet. He wobbles and falls on his ass, but he isn’t shot and that’s all any of them really care about.

“Where to now?” Trevor’s voice is too loud behind him and Aleks knows him too well, hears the fear buried there. He tampers down his own anxiety raising in his chest and turns, gestures to the northern side of the roof.

“It’s a more open path, but it’s the one they’ll least expect for us to take.”

Brett nods and tips his head, tells Aleks to lead the way. He sweeps the view first, makes sure they’re clear, and then Aleks is running again, plants his foot firmly on the ledge, flings himself off. He tucks and rolls onto the next building and pops up to watch Trevor follow him, sees Brett about to jump and James behind him, gun still in his hands and pointing down over the far edge, probably picking off any stray officers that made the mistake of rounding the corner.

Aleks yells over to him, because now that Brett’s jumped James is alone on the roof and his back is exposed and there’s too much that can go wrong here for him to be comfortable with. James doesn’t move at first, still looking down in the alley instead of across to them, and Aleks is ready to yell again when James rocks back on his heels and holsters his gun.

Brett curses next to him and Aleks turns away from James to focus on him instead and he catches both Brett and Trevor looking around for the next step in their escape route. Aleks takes a step forward and starts to point, gets halfway through saying, “Down the pipes, around the bend, there’s a low office building,” when there’s shots again and the three of them duck, crouch behind the metal radiator in the middle of the roof.

The shots don’t stop and Aleks is rolling his eyes, annoyed, but then Trevor asks “Where’s James?” and the annoyance is gone, replaced by a sharp _fear._ His eyes widen and he whips his head around, looks for James on the same rooftop they’re on because he _thought_ he made it over by now, but James isn’t here and that means -

That means Aleks looks over to the far building just in time to see James, holding his shoulder, but running regardless. He doesn’t have his gun out, and he’s not running towards them. He’s heading to the East, back the way they came from, and Aleks doesn’t know what the fuck he’s thinking, but -

James hits the edge and jumps. From the second his feet leave the cement, Aleks knows he isn’t going to make the next roof. There are balconies though, further down, a fire escape he can land on, and even with one armed injured Aleks _knows_ James, he knows he could do it -

Aleks hears the shot before he sees James fall. He has a second where he sees James, thinks he’s going to make the balcony, that he’ll be separated from them but _safe,_ and then he watches James go down in a mess of blood and yelling and Aleks doesn’t even have the air in his lungs to scream.

He blinks, like it could wipe away the memory, like maybe this is another situation where the CCTV just lagged and he missed James, that the frame where he made it to the other side of the alley just dropped and Aleks didn’t see it but he screws his eyes shut and opens them again and nothing is different because this isn’t a TV screen, or a monitor, or a dream, and James is _gone._

Brett grabs his wrist, tries to pull Aleks towards him, but Aleks is a dead weight and he stumbles, trips over his feet and falls into Brett. He didn’t realize it until Brett steadies him, hands gripping his shoulders, but Aleks is shaking and he can’t stop. He thinks Brett is talking to him but it sounds like static, like gibberish, like nothing he can understand and Aleks is frantic, desperate, keeps saying, “James, we have to get to James - “

“Aleks, we need to _go_ ,” Brett’s voice sounds like he’s speaking from under water but it’s enough for Aleks to move, robotic. Brett keeps a hand around his wrist but Aleks is behind him, follows him to the far edge where Trevor is, lips pressed together in a thin line, face drained of color.

Trevor doesn’t say anything but Aleks knows he wants to. There’s a question written all over his face, but Aleks doesn’t think he can answer it, doesn’t want to answer it, doesn’t even know what to say because -

James fell. He _fell._

They cross the roof, slide down the path Aleks pointed out earlier and slink underneath the pipes to turn up on the backside of the building where they have the option to jump for the office roof or shimmy down the fire escape. There are still cops on the ground, sirens yelling and lights bouncing off the walls, but Aleks thinks of James, of him getting shot out of the air, of the alley here being quiet because LSPD is already happy with the prize they’ve got.

It makes his skin crawl. Makes him turn back to Brett and say again, “We have to find James.”

“You don’t think I know that?” It’s snappy, frustrated, and Aleks knows they’re all feeling the same anger burning hard in their chest, choking their words. Brett curls his hands into fists at his side, though, and says “Aleks, he fell from fifty feet up.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

Brett sighs, looks over the edge of the fire escape. The alley below is empty but he knows there’s still cops on the ground. Lindsey is in his ear telling him they don’t have a lot of options at the moment, that if they linger any longer it’s going to be too late for any of them. He doesn’t want to make this call, doesn’t want to be in this situation, but it’s too late for that now. “We get out first, and we’ll come back.”

“ _No.”_

“Aleks - “

“You and Trevor go then. Get out, get safe, go home. I’m not leaving him.” Aleks’ jaw is locked, every muscle in his body tense while he stands across from Brett, both of them angry, loud, and not backing down. Trevor is standing between them and he looks sick, looks like he wants to _scream_ , and Aleks hates this.

Lindsey must say something over the comm because Brett’s shoulders droop and he takes a step back. He’s still looking at Aleks like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. He turns to Trevor instead, curls a hand in the back of his shirt, and Aleks watches them turn away.

It doesn’t have to be a goodbye because it isn’t.

Brett nods at him, small and quick, and then he’s clapping Trevor on the shoulder and bounding onto the top of the office across from them. Trevor turns back to him before he jumps and Aleks almost misses it when he says, “You better come home, too.”

Aleks can only stare as they leave him on the roof. He watches them go and tries not to feel empty, but he can’t shake the hollow feeling in his stomach like he’s just lost _everything_. He waits until Brett and Trevor become a smudge on the horizon and then he heads down the fire escape, takes the steps down two at a time and by pases the ladder completely, throws himself off instead and takes the shock of the landing in his feet.

He presses his back to the brick wall so he can slide into the shadow of the building as he shuffles back around, peers down the alley leading back towards where he last saw James. He can hear boots on the ground, cops running back and forth, but there’s less than before and it seems like the chaos has died down. Aleks crouches and sprints across the opening of the alley so he can duck behind a dumpster on the other side, closer now to the fire escape that James was trying to get to. From here, Aleks can see a cluster of officers, looking down at the ground and pointing things out to each other. There’s an ambulance near them, but it’s lights are off and the doors aren’t even open. Aleks chances his luck and sticks his head out further around the side of the dumpster so he can try and make out what they’re looking at.

There’s blood seeping into the sidewalk, but it’s not as much as he expected. It’s hit the concrete in a spray, bright red still and spread out.

There isn’t a body, which is - both comforting, and not.

Either James is alive and he got away, or he’s dead and he’s already gone. The officers are still looking at the blood on the sidewalk but Aleks can’t stand the sight anymore and he hastily pushes himself back into his hiding spot, leans against the dumpster and tries to race through each scenario.

He saw James get shot. He saw him start to fall. He didn’t see him grab onto the balcony, but he _could_ have grabbed the fire escape on the way down, caught the low part of it and either scrambled up the whole thing and over, or he got inside the building somehow.

Aleks doesn’t want to entertain the other option - that James didn’t make it, that he got taken it, that he’s already dead. He can’t.

The ladder for the fire escape is almost perfectly above him, and Aleks thinks if he gets up on top of the dumpster he could reach it easily, so he scrambles up. Sure enough, he’s grabbing the bottom rung without even reaching too hard for it and he climbs up, easy, and when he notices the blood smeared across the grating he tries not to get his hopes up.

He keeps climbing and makes sure to check the windows at every landing, see if any of them were broken or opened, thinking that maybe if James came this way he might not have had the strength to reach the roof and took a shortcut to safety instead. None of them open up, though, and the glass is intact for each, so he moves on and hopes he isn’t chasing a lost cause.

By the time he gets to the top of the building, Aleks is clearly sprinting up the steps. They don’t go all the way up to the roof but he doesn’t bat an eye at the gap, just sticks his foot on the window jam and jumps up to grab the ledge and haul himself up. He should be exhausted, and he _is,_ but he’s also running on pure adrenaline and _worry_ and he needs to get up there, needs to find James.

Aleks gets his elbows over the edge and once he looks over, it’s like all the air has been punched from his lungs. His hands are white knuckling the cement and he’s stuck there, halfway up onto the roof and just staring at James, a mess of blood and torn clothes propped right up against the cement wall and curled in on himself. Aleks makes a wounded noise low in his throat and he can see James wince, watches his head roll back to try and find him, and it kicks Aleks back into gear. He shuffles to the side as much as he can so he can pull himself over the edge without climbing over James, and as soon as his knees hit the roof he’s scrambling for James, hands hovering over him and trying to figure out where all the blood is _coming from_.

He follows the tears in the clothes and finds a bullet wound in his shoulder, a gash on his arm, deep scrapes on his legs, his knees. Aleks focuses on the bullet wound first, wads up the torn fabric and presses it the wound, apologizing when James jerks and hisses at the pain.

A hand curls in the front of his shirt, smears blood over his chest, and Aleks didn’t realize how much James was shaking until now. He tries to talk but his teeth are chattering together, and Aleks wants to shush him but James is desperate to get it out, so Aleks shuffles forward on his knees and leans closer.

“You need - I have to - You have to _get me down,_ Aleks I want to be down, I don’t - I can’t be up here, Aleks, _please - “_  

“It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Aleks makes an effort to keep his voice soft, steady, but his own hands are shaking and James is clinging to him like a lifeline and in all the years they’ve known each other, Aleks has never heard James sound so genuinely _scared._

He tries to sit next him, get his feet out from under him so he can sit on the roof, but that makes James even more panicked and he’s trying to sit up now, trying to push himself away from the wall, his hand curling tighter in Aleks’ shirt and his voice pitching up, keeps saying, “No, no, we have to leave - “

“We will, I promise we will. I’m getting you out of here, but I need to call Lindsey, okay? You shouldn’t be moving, please, let me call Lindsey and we can go home, okay? James?”

James nods, movement small and jerky, but he doesn’t relax or lean back again. Aleks almost wants to push him to, but there isn’t time. He fumbles for his phone instead and thumbs it open so he can ping their location, sends the address back to Lindsey and calls her to make sure she gets it, make sure she knows what condition James is in so they can have the bay ready with their medical equipment.  

Aleks sits on that rooftop with James and he tries not to think about everything that’s happened to them, everything they’ve gone through, everything that’s led them to this moment here, both of them bloody and beat up and small.

He tries not to think about what’s going to happen next. If there’s even going to be a _next._

 

James is out of it, woozy from blood loss, and by the time Asher shows up in a chopper again James isn’t attentive enough to argue. He doesn’t let go of Aleks, though, and it makes it harder for them to get _in_ to the chopper, but they make it work somehow and then Asher is in the sky before James can even realize they aren’t on the roof anymore. Jakob is with him in the back with their traveling med kit, and Aleks tries to get James to lay down on one side of the cabin so Jakob can look at him, asses what they’ll need to do when they get him to the warehouse.

It’s a long night for all of them just mulling around and _waiting._ There’s only so much they can do to help Lindsey out before it becomes too much, too many hands, too crowded, and when only a handful of them even have medical knowledge it’s even worse. So when she shoos them out of her workspace they go, leave her and Jakob behind in the bay and try to keep themselves busy instead.

Aleks sits on the couch and stares at the wall and tries to get James’ voice out of his head, tries to stop thinking about the way it shook, about how scared he was.

(He doesn’t want that the be the last thing he remembers from James. He doesn’t want this to be the way their story ends.)

 

James recovers from the fall, but he’s never quite the same. He’s quieter, nervous in a way he didn’t used to be. He isn’t the first one out of the door for jobs anymore, stays back at the warehouse more often than not. Plans heists but doesn’t participate, especially if they’re going to be high up again. Aleks will admit it’s weird, that he’ll look to his left still and expect to find James but finds nothing instead, stuck grinning at empty air.

His stomach will drop, but he’ll remind himself that it’s not like that. He has James, still, has him there for the small stuff, has him _alive._ It’s all he can ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not Super Happy with the ending, but considering this was supposed to be a quick, 300 word prompt fill, I had to wrap it up s o m e w h e r e 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed! drop me a comment here or over on tumblr @haywoodukillme, where u can also feel free to drop me a prompt where my brain will spin the Word Count lotto and u might just end up with an 8k monster like this one


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